


Layers, cells, constellations

by TotemundTabu



Series: 30 THROBB SMUTS [9]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Bad Dirty Talk, Begging, Blow Jobs, Breathplay, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Dom Robb Stark, Dom/sub, F/M, Humiliation, Implied Wax Play, Infidelity, Internalized Homophobia, Jealousy, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mirror Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Prostate Massage, Sub Theon Greyjoy, Top Robb Stark, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Humiliation, cinnamon vanilla
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 18:28:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11697378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotemundTabu/pseuds/TotemundTabu
Summary: For the prompts "THROBB , on and off through a long period of time , punishments, sub/dom, dirty talking"Theon grabbed a packet of cigarettes from his jeans’ pocket and offered him one; Robb took it and waited for the bright red lighter to twist its flame up. Theon consumed him all the same, like the flame the cigarette.He was not special for Theon, Robb knew that much.He knew but it helped very little.





	Layers, cells, constellations

_Note_ : I started writing this fanfic before the tragic event concerning Chris Cornell and I did consider cancelling the publication due to it. I've been though advised otherwise by my friends, who did consider the fic worth a shot and the song fitting. Hopefully you'll think so too. The title is from a quote by Anaïs Nin. The starting scene is inspired by my most favorite throbb art: <http://charleynoparade.tumblr.com/image/115212395580> by charleywng.

 

* * *

 

**Layers, cells, constellations**

 

* * *

 

 

_Black hole sun,_

_won't you come_

_and wash away the rain?_

 

It started when Robb was fourteen, on one of those lazy Saturday evenings, before you're actually old enough to go out, but old enough to invite friends over and have the house to yourself. And Robb selected the most embarrassingly testosterone-filled movies he could think of; he made sure to take only things that wouldn't have had romance. The last thing he wanted was a moment of silence, two people kissing and his eyes falling on Theon without room for excuses.

How to hide what he felt? That was not his talent.

No.

He was as transparent as fucking water. 

And Theon was gritty and murky liqueur and even the idea of thinking about his lips fucked Robb over.

One shouldn't imagine their best friend when seeing a movie, should they? One shouldn't feel their stomach all warm and spikes in their guts when their best friend tells them about his most recent girl, should they? Should they?

His hands trembled on the dvds, as he wondered if that would have made sense to anyone else.

But who was supposed to tell what was he feeling? Jon?

Jon would have looked at him and thought he was a gross weirdo, no doubt, or ask him if he was a fag and, god, Robb didn't know. Well he suspected... it made sense? He wanted Theon to kiss him, he wanted Theon's hands on him – like he did with girls all the time, he wondered if he would have... he knew with girls he sometimes did  _that_ thing, but with boys it's different, isn’t it? Girls must smell and taste nice. He sighed, shaking the thought away.

Robb turned, as wind shook the window, making the glass tremble, tipping over the trashcan outside – he was sure he had heard cans and bottles roll down. He stood up and almost went to look, but then he found himself unable to move.

A moon so big it felt thick between his ribs shone out of the window. A sky like the dense blue of sapphires.

And no clouds in sight.

He wondered how it would have felt to have no fucking clouds inside.

It was a luxury he had forgotten.

When Theon entered the room – a purple v-neck shirt showing his chest, long hair falling over his shoulders as soft as music, a smirk that would melt metal – Robb swallowed his heart and felt a black hole open in his stomach.

“Bro. - Theon almost snorted – There is like a typhoon outside, what the fuck.”

Robb shrugged, “Rain will suit the atmosphere. - he joked, shaking in front of him a dvd – Horror night.”

“Great.”, Theon grinned, staring at the huge pile.

“I also found The Haunting.”

Theon frowned, then chuckled, “I'm not sure if I want the good one which is... well, good, or the awfully laughable one that has Catherine Zeta Jone's tits in it.”

Robb faked the brightest laugh he could.

“The remake. I decided we wanted to laugh at bad CGI.”

Theon laughed, then smacked Robb on the shoulder.

Robb, at times, wondered why Theon was his friend, exactly.

Theon was sixteen, going on seventeen, but he was always hanging around with him as if they had the same age. Robb spent the last couple of years wondering if Theon would drop him but... it never happened? Sort of?

Sure, Theon had a couple of friends his age, but he was mostly all about the girls. Or, well, their mom's. He was a Stacy's mom kind of boy.

Robb knew, in a way, that for some reason, he was Theon's best friend. He had picked him.

And Robb was not sure why.

Theon glanced down at him, “White and red stripes? You look like a sailor.”

Robb blushed, awkward, and scratched the back of his neck.

“Eh, it's a comfy shirt I wear at home...”, he mumbled, embarrassed.

He felt stupid, for having thought that shirt suited him somehow, he had just hoped it would have made his chest look a bit bigger, his shoulders a bit larger. Maybe.

Theon smiled at that and Robb was not sure why.

“C'mon. - he said, tilting his head to point at the laptop – Show me what you've got.”

Robb wondered if fourteen year olds could die of a heart attack, because, boy, he could have been the case zero. 

Usually, they'd sit on the ground, on some pillows, with their backs leaning against the bed, staring at the tv or laptop, but this time, no, this time Theon jumped on his bed, and patted the spot next to him, inviting Robb to follow. Well, fuck.

And they sat one next to the other, Theon with his legs bent in a rhombus that seemed like an invitation for Robb to stare. And when they laid on their bellies, Theon's elbow on the bed, as he laughed and arched his back, made Robb think about how he'd arch during sex. And as they laid one next to the other, Robb's eyes seemed to fall on Theon's v-neck, onto the soft olive skin, and where he could see the thin layer of fabric hilling a bit, over his nipples. 

The way he wanted him, like nothing else in the world, boiled his blood and made his brain blind.

“Hey. - Theon called him, waking Robb up from his thoughts – I kinda feel like being on my back.”

“Oh. - Robb laughed, nervously hoping he didn't get noticed staring at Theon's chest – You keep moving, like Rickon on a sugar high.”

Theon chuckled, cracking his neck, “Yeah, sorry. - he moved the laptop by their side, then glanced at Robb again before laying down – It was just a tiring day.”

Robb blinked.

Tiring.

His father then,  _again_ . 

Robb didn't grab the laptop, rather, he laid just next to Theon, head slightly tilted, staring at him, as he stared at the ceiling stained in the blue of the night. It felt weird to know your best friend gets beaten up by their father, but how weird and fucked up was it to want to kiss him and grab him and tell him, with all the naïve, poorly ductaped confidence of a teen, that he would have protected him?

Theon smiled, turning to Robb.

His look was weirdly hot against Robb's skin. As if, for once, he saw him.

“You look so worried. - Theon chuckled – I'm fine.”

Robb blinked, slowly, but his eyes were fixed on Theon's lips. He swallowed.

A blush, maybe, or a gulp or a too easy to read glance. Something had to have happened.

And Theon's fingers passed between the auburn curls, gently folding them around their tips, moving them behind his ear, caressing the spot where they met the long neck.

And Robb felt his lips tingle.

As he felt Theon cupping his head, Robb moved forward, just in a foolish leap of faith, their lips brushing for a moment, and his eyes closed so he could drink up the sensation of Theon's mouth: now soft, silky, then strong, then warm, their teeth clacking slightly, his tongue moving inside him, Theon's jaw letting him have all the space he needed, Robb drowning in him. 

He leaned in, against Theon, his hand moving through his clothes, unbuttoning his jeans, searching for him, and Theon, eyes closed, taking more control of the kiss, making him moan against it, deep and dark.

Robb remembers the feverish bliss of feeling Theon's cock hardening against his hand and Theon's arms, pulling him close.

Even just for a moment, even just for a night …

And if he had left, he thought, at least he would have had a taste, a little drop of ambrosia in a deserted love.

But that was not the last time at all.

 

*

 

Theon grinned, his smirk as sharp as a knife, as he licked his hand clean of Robb's come.

Robb was still shivering, his back against the bed, head hanging over the bedpost, pants exiting his mouth hard and low. He stared down at his cock, still half-hard and swollen, as need twitched back into his veins, while Theon finished attending his own shaft, aroused and thick in his hand.

Robb bowed, almost falling on Theon's hip and took him in his mouth, barely concerned by Theon's vague protests, sucking him. He rejoiced, elated, feeling Theon's voice struggle, his moans turning from low to high.

His swollen balls heavy in his hands, while Robb bobbed his head, licked the tender hems of the skin, sucked the sensitive cockhead, swallowing down the shivers, the moans, the precome leaking copious. Theon's hips twitched and he bit his hand strong enough to let blood drip.

Theon came in shivery bliss, bucking into Robb's hot mouth, making him moan and growl against the wet, twitching tip.

As Theon's cock softened, Robb would clean it, well and throughout with candid devotion.

Theon's eyes gleamed darkly, staring at him, as his hand passed over Robb's curls, ruffling them, patiently.

“You shouldn't swallow, you know?”

Robb licked his lips again, sucked them, his eyes wet in desire. His lips quivered, tempted, shivering with an idea, a dream, a wish.

“Why not?”, Robb blinked, half curious, half bitter.

He knew why.

He found a sick masochistic pleasure in having Theon repeat it to him, over and over again, that it was nothing.

“Well. - Theon swallowed, zipping up his jeans – You know, we're friends... not faggots.”

“Yeah, of course.”

It tasted like rotten sour candy, like expired dreams of salted water. But Robb swallowed his pride and heart just fine.

He was in awe with what a good actor he had become.

Years of training, years of breaking his own heart and putting it together with ductape and spit.

Theon grabbed a packet of cigarettes from his jeans’ pocket and offered him one; Robb took it and waited for the bright red lighter to twist its flame up. Theon consumed him all the same, like the flame the cigarette.

He was not special for Theon, Robb knew that much.

He knew but it helped very little.

Theon had a new girl every other day, he never stayed long with anyone and Robb knew that what they shared was basically a divertissement, a less solitary masturbation, maybe even ginger to banish from his mouth the flavour of the meal. Robb knew he was not much more than a change of pace, a gulped down drink to be forgotten in a long list of sweet swirls on Theon’s tongue.

But this, for some masochistic and idiotic reason, was not enough for his heart to stop loving.

Because the way Theon would move close to him, the way he'd kiss him, pushing his tongue in, gently rubbing his thumb on Robb's cheek, pulling his lips with his teeth – and the scorching, smouldering, ardent glances he'd throw at him during those moments, as if in the whole world there were only them and their aching cocks – now that was a fucking vertigo.

Those warm fingertips, that tilted smirk, that fervent, absurd passion they were like strings.

And he was a puppet to a love he couldn't grasp.

Theon chuckled, smoking and leaning his head against Robb's mattress, closing his eyes.

“ _Boiling heat_... _summer stench_... - he hummed, quietly, breathing in and out little, white puffs from his red, wet lips – _'Neath the black, the sky looks dead_.”

“Again that song?”, Robb snorted.

“It's not so bad.”, Theon defended it, weakly.

Robb shook his head and pretended not to hear that.

A puff.

“You need to stop listening to old music. - he mumbled – It's like eating food only once it's cold.”

Theon snorted, “I like my music as I like my women.”

“Archaeological?”, Robb mocked, trying to hide his jealousy behind a little joke.

Theon shook his head, “Mature. - he laughed – Women and music are like wine, you have to let them age a bit.”

Robb looked away.

Maybe he bent his eyebrow in a bit too much of an arch, maybe he let out a sigh he didn't realize he made, maybe his sadness was clear in his cerulean eyes – maybe, maybe, maybe; Theon must have seen something, somehow, because he bent close and kissed him hard, pressing him against the bedside. Robb's breath escaped, then a chocked moan.

He closed his eyes, as Theon's tongue would fill him up and his arms ran to his jaw an under his shirt.

Robb strangled a protest.

Theon's hands felt like iron, branding him, and yet, their touch was just bliss. Pure, obscene bliss.

 

*

 

Theon laid in bed, naked, Kyra sleeping next to him, a pencil in his mouth, papers between his hands.

She leaned closer, curious.

“What are you up to?”

“Astronomy.”, he mumbled.

“Oh! - she chirped – Which sign are you?”

Theon rolled his eyes so far back into his head that he seemed close to seeing the back of his skull, as he groaned, “Astronomy, not astrology. It's the scientifically accurate one.”

“Ow. - Kyra whined, bored – I don't like when you play all nerd.”

“And I don't like when you squirt so much the wetness reaches the inside of the mattress.”, he pointed out.

Kyra let out a chuckle, “You’re the one who doesn't stop, it seems like you have to fuck me dry sometimes. You push so much.”

Theon raised an eyebrow, without moving his eyes from his sky map, “Are you complaining?”

“Nah. - she rolled out of the blankets, laying still on the bed, belly down, and grabbed her bag to search through it – I'd rather have it sore than let you leave me empty. It's just annoying when you keep count.”

“I don't keep count.”, Theon lied.

“You do. - she chirped, grabbing a cigarette from the bag – Or you would have asked me.”

“Is there much to count in sex?”

She shrugged and lit her cigarette.

Theon stared at her perky ass, as it danced slightly on the bed, big and round. Her grinned, licked two fingers and pushed them in, making her shiver and cough the smoke out.

She felt wet and hot against his fingers, still as scorching as when he had slipped out. He glanced at the soft pink lips, at how his come dripped, creamed, as he moved his fingers in and out.

“You're still loose...”

Kyra chuckled, “You tormented me enough inside, if you want to do more, lick me.”

Theon shrugged his shoulders, then pushed two more fingers in, curled them, making Kyra moan loudly.

“If you suck me too. - he said, firmly – And after let me fuck you again.”

Kyra nodded, weakly. And Theon moved, obedient to her plea for more.

And, damn, she felt good.

Kyra had always been his favourite amongst the girls his age: she never wanted more, never complained, she knew how to have fun and enjoy a ride without begging for more. She was single and yet, like his married women, she had no intention to go beyond some fucks.

And she was easily beautiful, tiredly so – long unkempt hair, the hips of a Greek goddess and boobs big enough to make his dick sink into heaven, lips of silk and flames. When she rode him, he couldn't think of anything he would have changed.

Well, except  _that_ thing. But he didn't want to think about that.

Her blowjobs were nice, she knew what he liked, she'd move her head like a nice whore, but, when she looked up, her dark eyes felt like a betrayal.

“Close your eyes.”, he ordered her, and she did it, smirking.

He'd look at how her cheek would bend around his cock, the shape deforming her adorably, and then his mind would be all lost at the idea of Robb. His Robb. 

He fucked Kyra's mouth, banging against the edge of her throat, trying to be as quick as he could, have it over soon, but she moved away. His cock twitched, while she positioned herself over him, pussy aching for attention.

Theon grabbed her by the thick thighs and started to torment her red, needy clit, while she, between gasps and moans, tried to return to work on his cock.

Theon's tongue moved, slow and persistent, stubbornly eager for every squirmed jolt from Kyra's hips.

He tried hard to suffocate that thought.

Robb. Robb. Robb.

He was mouth deep in her cunt, her delicious mouth sucking him – labouring to not interrupt herself while pleasure shook her, and he still couldn't stop thinking about a boy? A damn, stupid boy.

Theon then pulled her up, forcing her to stand up and sit on him properly, licking her diligently, tormenting the sweet tip of her clit, making her shout and moan. Kyra was unsure of why she got taken away from Theon's cock, but she could imagine it well enough.

As she came, her outside still twitching, oversensitive, his tongue slipped inside her, drinking up the wetness and his old come too. She shivered and begged him to enter.

Theon loved that: being begged.

He was good, so it was not exactly forced, but he liked it that much, Kyra had to wonder how doubtful could he actually be.

He slapped her ass, making her move and ordered her to place herself like the good bitch she was.

And as he sunk into her wet pussy, Theon couldn’t help himself from biting his lips to suffocate a grunt.

All he could see was red, red everywhere.

 

*

 

With a hit, he twisted his hips, riding stronger and felling him deeper. A wide smile painted on his face, sharp, pleased.

He moved erratically now, once, twice, feeling the flesh tense and pull. He moaned out loud as Robb thrust, dry and raw, making him come in a twitched jerk.

Theon smiled, biting his lips and moving some more his hips, slowly, madly sweet, so that Robb could empty himself too inside him; then, he moved to the side, laying on his hip, like an Endymion for the woods to stare at, enraptured.

Theon's jet black hair looked like a waterfall of night down his pale shoulder. The black ink of the tattoos painted the fabric of a whole life Robb knew he wouldn't ever grasp.

It felt weird, somehow.

Robb blinked a couple of times, staring at him, quite in awe and yet burdened, while the other boy pressed their lips together, moving closer, between Robb's arms, with a satisfied moan. He closed his eyes, and Robb felt an unreal happiness swelling his heart to the point it hurt.

“Do you... do you want to sleep here?”

“Nah. I'll just nap for twenty minutes. - Theon laughed, maybe he found that question silly – I kind of have to wake up early tomorrow.”

“Oh, me too.”, Robb replied, trying not to sound too openly disappointed.

“Good.”, Theon said, with a chuckle that meant 'shut up'.

Robb breathed in; he knew that was how those type of nights went: two drinks, a couple of humping sloppy make outs in the car and then a fake-casual 'wanna come over?' and one pushing the other on the sofa bed, praying it would bear another acrobatic session.

That was the silent contract, after all.

But he had to admit that, that time, just that time, he had allowed himself to hope that maybe...

He kissed Theon's ear, behind the lobe, making him shiver and grin. Robb grabbed him by the waist, then placed himself on him, laying – Theon winced in desire, feeling Robb's cock, again hard, pressing against his ass. Robb started moving his cock, rubbing it against the boy's cheeks, brushing his soft thighs and making his voice wet and warm.

He was eager, he was voracious and Theon loved just how wanted and oversensitive those fucks left him.

“Again already?”

“Like you'd mind.”

He chuckled, “I don't. - a grin, then a moan – But be quick, I want to be back before f... oh, oh, our...”

Robb thrust in easily and Theon choked a moan, as his raw flesh was widened again, as his ass was filled up and tensed all over. Robb grinned, pushing deeper, leaving Theon in ecstatic loss of speech.

He pulled his hair back and sunk his teeth into his soft flesh, sucking his veins broken and his snowy skin violet and burgundy.

Robb was unsure of when it became too deep for him to emerge, when he drowned completely into Theon – was it since the first time they kissed? The first time they fucked? - and maybe it didn't matter much. All that mattered to him was that he could sink into Theon also physically and see him shiver and come just from having his ass open by his cock.

Seeing Theon becoming a hot mess of needy moans and slutty obscenities around his shaft, sucking his whole erection in... Nothing felt that good.

“You're a slut.”, he grinned, pushing through and hard, making Theon scoot and scream.

Not a bad scream, actually.

They both noticed it, not without shame and elation.

Theon bit his lips, he tried to avoid saying anything. But didn't protest.

He couldn't, he was unsure why, but there was a shivering, unravelling delight in being addressed like that. 

He felt his dirt emerge on his skin as he got fucked in daylight, with no chance of hiding.

Robb grabbed his hips, brought him closer against him, stuffing him, feeling Theon's ass slowly adapt to his girth, welcoming it, begging for it to push harder.

Robb pulled Theon's hair, then leaned to his ear and whispered, words as hot as drops of fire.

“What a whore. I wish you could see how well you're taking me.”

Theon swallowed dryly and whined. His lips quivered.

Robb could feel Theon swallowing him more, his legs shivering as arousal pooled in his groin. He thrust in stronger, then stopped holding him by the hips and put his other hand on Theon's throat, pressing it hard. Theon's neck arched so well, between his pulled hair and the doe squished neck. His Adam's apple tensed, letting out a strangled moan.

“Your ass is so loose. - Robb mocked, his voice sweet and sharp altogether – You take my whole fucking cock.”

He thrust more, aiming well, making sure to hit Theon's prostate, making him jolt, his hips feverishly twitching, his cock close to bursting. Theon's voice became more muted and more chocked and all more arousing.

Robb slammed in harder, hitting him, mercilessly trashing into him. Theon's knees gave up, but Robb just pushed more, seizing his delicate neck while banging his sweet spot.

Theon started to drool, his eyes were melted, wet, his hips felt electrocuted by need, while his ass would gulp down Robb's cock, needing every thrust more than the one before.

Robb's hand clenched, stronger.

“For someone who fucks so many pussies, your ass sure looks like a cunt. - he drove in deeper, balls slamming on Theon's entrance, then almost slipping out just to hit his prostate entering again, over and over – You are still full of my old come and you crave more.”

Theon's jaw clacked, his face was tense and red.

Robb growled a last, “Slut.”, before leaving his neck and thrusting into him with enough to force to drag out the loudest scream. Theon came and fell onto the mattress, exhausted, panting, his cock still twitching, while he shivered again, in ecstasy, as he felt Robb's sticky sperm rolling out of his ass.

His face glowed in sweat.

“Fuck – that...”

Robb panted, unsure how to move, what to do or say.

It never felt so good.

Theon melted like fucking butter all around him, while he spoke, and his own orgasm felt like he had shot all of himself out.

Robb glanced down at Theon, just to find him eyes wide with a weird horror mixed with shame on his face. He wondered if Theon would have ever forgiven him for making him discover such a deeply rotten need.

 

*

 

“C'mon, hotshot.”

Theon laughed against her mouth, sinking into Kyra, “Don't call me that.”

“I like it. - she bit his bottom lip, moving her hips, making him grunt – You're so cute.”

Theon's cock felt thick inside her, pulling her open, filling her. And when he fucked her, he was always restless, resistant, stubborn almost in pushing her always to the edge, beyond pleasure, beyond what she'd expect, as if he had to be the best fuck in everyone's life.

Which was great for her, of course.

But if she thought about it, well, it must have sucked for him, always taking sex as a game, as a test, as a moment to prove himself.

Sometimes Kyra thought Theon was the only man she had ever met more concerned with pleasuring than feeling pleasure himself, taking his engorged orgasmic satisfaction in seeing people begging for him. 

“Don't call me cute.”, Theon bossed her around, thrusting harder.

She chocked a chuckle and then smirked at him, wrapping his locks around her finger. Theon acted all commandeering, but she knew when she was riding him, he liked that the best and would let her get away with almost anything.

“Handsome, then?”

“Better.”

Kyra was about to laugh, when Theon's mobile started ringing.

She thought it could be fun, somehow. She moved her arm, while still moving over Theon, ignoring his protests, and grabbed the mobile from his jeans on the bed.

She chuckled, answering.

Theon looked at her, first in anger, but he masked that quickly with a certain smugness and thrust deep into her, making her moan against the mobile loudly.

What did he have to lose after all? It felt almost fun, almost drunkenly hilarious. 

She laughed, “Yes, hello! Ah-a, no... he is right there. -another moan, this one wetter, electric, as she arched in delight, Theon hitting her well – Do you have a message I can tell him?”

Theon pulled her hips closer, smirk so sharp Kyra feared he'd cut her open. 

His eyes were dark with desire as the bottom of the ocean, with no light coming through.

Theon slammed in and Kyra screamed into the phone, her voice creaming up, her pussy clenching to keep him in, craving every thrust he'd give her.

She chuckled, “Oh? - her attention shifted to the phone, she looked almost amused – Do you like to listen?”

Theon blinked, now annoyed and moved to take the phone, but Kyra moved away and kept talking, “You are making noises too, do you want to join? I'd like that, you know?”

Theon grabbed the phone now, pulling also her hair, making her wince.

“Who are you?”, he half-roared, now wondering who the fuck would be finding that situation arousing.

As he heard the voice mumble, his heart dropped. It fell through his ribs and melted, dried and emptied against his liver.

“I'm sorry, I should have put down, but I thought you were, you know, making fake noises for... a joke?”

Theon's lips quivered, nervously. Kyra moved away, worried.

“Yeah, Robb, of course we were, c'mon. - he swallowed – We were just mocking you.”

Kyra frowned, confused, and watched Theon making excuses. Excuses. Theon.

Theon fucked around without strings, as clear as the daylight about not wanting a relationship, also exactly not to make excuses or having to justify himself with others. He never denied with a girl to be fucking someone else.

And she was sure Robb was pretty much informed of which type of relationship she and Theon had, given that more than once they had quickies while those two were getting a beer. They even made out a couple of times in front of him.

When Theon hung up, Kyra moved to him, between perplexed and annoyed, with a hint of genuine, upset care in her voice.

“I'm sorry, I didn't know.”

“Know what? - he snorted, faking a smile – It's fine, he believed me, no harm done.”

Kyra glanced down at his crotch.

“Do you like Robb?”

“He's my bro, Kyra, of course I like Robb.”

She shook her head, “Like... like like.”

“I'm no faggot. - he looked almost angry but his grin twitched and he stood up to dress – It's just that he’s such a church boy, these things scandalize him a bit, I didn't want him to feel like he had to confess over this.”

Kyra frowned, “...you know that Robb is gay, right?”

Theon laughed.

A bit too loud, a bit too strong.

“You're joking, he is straight.”

“He doesn't look at you straight. - she observed – He looks at you like I look at Idris Elba.”

Theon wrinkled his nose, “Really now?”

“He's a nice man.”

“You've daddy issues.”, he snorted.

She didn't say it back, even though she could. She just smiled, a bit sad.

“He like likes you.”

“We're just friends.”, Theon insisted.

Sometimes they fucked, sure.

But that was it.

It was to empty their balls and have some fun. Nothing big. Nothing serious. Nothing heartfelt.

It was just half-assed voracious greed soothing.

 

*

 

Robb sank his teeth into the overly soft, sweet cake, pulled and tore the butter pastry dough and licked his lips from soft crumbs and icing sugar.

The sweetness was overwhelming and yet unsatisfying, like the far away ghost of what he craved.

He munched slowly, remembering Theon's voice, Kyra's, their sounds, their pants.

Robb's hand travelled to his crotch and he started to stroke himself to the thought of Theon fucking Kyra while he, behind, would have fucked Theon, making him come, writhe and squirm against and into Kyra. He imagined Theon's hips bucking frenetically, his ass twitching around his cock, his head moving back as he groaned, pleasure seizing him by both sides.

He would have had Theon's soft hair tickling his shoulder, his face all arched resting on him, throat exposed, begging for a kiss, while he would force him to take his cock and press his own into Kyra's dripping cunt.

She would beg for more, for him too to fuck her and Theon would have protested, trigger her clit furiously, dragging the most blissfully exhausting, drenched orgasm out of her, so he wouldn't have to give up his cock inside his ass. 

His cock throbbed and Robb forced himself to ignore it.

He imagined Kyra, her wet thighs with the thick, white come from Theon's still hard cock, as she'd beg him to let her suck him off. Theon would let her and then suck his – ah, Robb could almost feel, almost taste Theon's tongue on it. 

Robb shivered, moaned, bit his hand, came, in a slow growl.

He would join them, yes... he'd do anything to claim him as his own.

He'd mark Theon with his come, stain him all over, show Kyra how he moaned under him, twist his nipples, pierce his neck, making him wail so slutty and needy that she would have always seen him like that. She would have understood who Theon belonged to and... 

Robb found himself drowning in his dirty sheets.

Theon didn't belong to anyone. Right.

 

*

 

They said it all the time.

“We're just friends.”, Robb granted Jon, with a laugh, faking a nonchalant lack of care, as his cousin shook his head, not convinced.

“We're just friends.”, Theon replied to Asha, as she looked at him, eyes almost falling out of her skull, as she realized what her brother was doing.

“We're just friends.”, Robb said a thousand times to Sansa, while she would roll her eyes to the sky and wonder how could he be so blind.

“We're just friends.”, Theon mumbled, shrugging his shoulders, when Kyra asked him if he was so sure it was fine for her to kiss him in front of Robb.

Just friends.

They told each other often.

Bit too often.

Thrice a week often, sometimes four.

But it started so bad, and it felt a bit too good to stop.

“We're just friends.”, they breathed and roared – eager, greedy, restless – one over the mouth of the other, lips clashing, softly meeting, tongues entwining, moans rising.

“We're just friends.”

Theon grabbed Robb's face, pulling him down. He tasted like dawn, cold and warmth together, light but not blinding, soft in it’s ferocious gutting of the night.

Theon knew Robb was his home.

He knew he belonged there, somehow.

He also knew how easy it is to become homeless; and then? You break over, you try, you bend, your whole soul of coal and embers haunts spaces and people not anymore yours and memories you can't live again.

It's just bitterness, all over, as deep as the bone marrow.

The thought echoed in the chamber of his ribcage. It left him empty and shaken.

He couldn't afford to lose Robb.

“We're just friends. - he promised, lowering himself on Robb's thick cock, the girth blissfully tearing him open – It doesn't mean anything about what we are.”

But it was just wishful thinking: it meant a lot, it meant too much. But it was mute and silenced and like all silenced things, whatever it meant had no value in the end.

Wishes are thrown away and drown in wells.

Wishes burn and extinguish like comets as they hit the ground.

There is never realization, there is never peace.

Theon rode Robb; he moved his hips in a slow rhythm, welcoming him in, making space, loosing himself up, taking inch after inch, while struggling to suffocate a moan.

_And my youth I pray to keep, heaven send hell away_ …

Robb's head hit his prostate, making Theon bite his lips and drive himself into it, more and more, pleasuring himself on the shaft, torturing himself in the sweetest way. Pleasure dripped from his own tip, without stopping.

_Won't you come and wash away the rain? Won't you come? Won't you come? Won't you come?_

_Won't you come?_

He screamed through the orgasm pumping through his veins, setting his nerves alight. He stared down at his dick, at Robb's stomach with awe. As if he had seen a dream.

His come rolled out, pooled on Robb's stomach, flowing under his twitching cock, as Theon impaled and rubbed himself.

Robb sat up and grabbed Theon's hips – his grip tight and rough as he sank his nails into them, fingertips bruising and started drowning into him, thrust after thrust. Theon bit his lips until he exposed flesh, pouring on Robb for minutes, pulling and dragging the pleasure out, milking his prostate dry.

His voice was reduced to breathless pants and moans, while coming pulled him into bliss.

Robb looked at him like nothing prettier had ever existed in the world.

His hand reached Theon's throat and clenched it. The pressure on his muscles, the tension mixing with Robb's fingers' weight drove him to the edge.

He moved fasted, fucking himself harder on Robb, then letting Robb's hand on his hip guide his movements and the one on his neck decide his breathing.

“You're so pretty... - Robb murmured, his smirk tilting up – A pretty, thirsty, needy whore you are.”

Theon moaned, moving harder on Robb's shaft with his desperate ass, pumping it with his movement, craving him all deeper and thick inside him. Against him.

Every hit that brushed against his sweet spot sent him to heaven. His eyes rolling, his mouth dropping open. Robb would clench harder and hoarse sounds would come out of Theon's quivering lips.

“You fuck around but then you always come back to me.”

Theon's neck felt so hard then, hurt, hurt real good – he could feel air leaving his throat, making his head dizzy, the clank inside him, the way he completely depended on Robb's wishes. And it made him so hard.

He nodded at Robb's words, desperate for more, moving harsher, rougher, clumsier, in need to be pierced through and torn apart.

“Only I can see you like this. - Robb's thumb pressed on Theon's Adam's apple, his fingers enveloped his neck, his lips twitched – Only I can make you feel like this.”

It was a growl and a whisper and hoarse and as dark as the night.

But it glowed and burnt deeper than any scream. 

Because Theon knew that in that moment Robb was not playing.

He's asking for a confirmation. He's asking for possession, a real one.

Theon's lips trembled.

A thin web of saliva fell from the corner of his mouth.

Words came out deformed, dry, then nothing. His tongue felt big, swollen, Robb sank his own into his mouth, grip tightening, thrusts starting again, harder, rougher.

Theon screamed mute in delight, coming again and feeling Robb ravaging him. Merciless like only he could be with him.

… as he allowed only him to be.

Robb put away his hand, as he felt Theon's throat had enough and moved it to Theon's back to support him better, while diving into him, slam after slam.

Robb parts from the kiss only to grunt, arch his head back and fasten the rhythm, making Theon scoot forward and hold onto him, desperate for contact, needing his skin against his own. Robb’s closed eyes, his frown, the sweaty curls on his forehead... Theon stared, almost with contemplation, mouth open, jaw dropped as the thrusts would rip him open.

Robb roared, coming into him, then slowed down, moving still, as to extinguish his orgasm slowly.

“Only you...”, Theon then whispered, tucking the sweaty locks behind Robb's ear.

Robb opened his eyes, slowly, hips lips trembled.

Theon took them in his own.

“Only you...”, he moaned, again, as Robb's hand grasped his cock and stroked it.

 

*

 

Jon glanced at Robb, sideways. His glance then lingered on the opaque rim of the tall beer glass, filled with foam still, while Robb's was half emptied.

He swallowed a dry knot.

He breathed in and looked at Robb again. He was smiling, happy, unaware.

“You and Theon...”

Robb glanced at him.

“Yes?”, he let out a small, nervous laugh.

Jon knew. Kinda. Sorta. Partly.

But he never asked much, leaving him to what he thought was an emotionally suicidal plan without too much criticizing. Just side brooding.

“It seems Kyra and him may be... - a pause, Jon looked away – You know, together.”

Robb felt his mouth tremble. The corner up, twitched, vibrantly weak.

Like the wing of a butterfly cut in half by a branch shaken by the wind or a cruel child playing god, attached just by a crumble of space; it trembled.

A metallic, sour smile with the taste of iron and tiredness was painted on his lips.

His eyes were all red and wet.

“...what?”

Jon's glare remained on the table.

“So they say.”

Who?

When? Since when?

His stomach dropped. His teeth felt like gravel, he clenched them and his fists and all his stupid dreams. He chugged the beer down and left.

Jon sipped his glass slowly.

“Just friends, uh...”, he mumbled, almost scoffing.

 

*

 

Robb slammed the door behind them.

“Why didn't you tell me?”, he shouted.

Theon chuckled, low, shrugged, “Did I need to, bro?”

“Don't bro me, for fucks sake, Theon. - he pinned him against the wall, Theon lost a heartbeat, letting out a small gasp, but Robb didn't seem to be in that mood – You didn't tell me. You should have.”

Theon snickered, nervously – electric, metallic, sour.

“You're acting like a jealous girlfriend, Robb.”

Robb punched the wall next to Theon's face, making him stiff.

He never did that shit.

He knew he disliked that stuff because of his father. 

Then Robb's hand pulled him by the jaw and forced a kiss through him, deep and dark, tongue pushing, while all of Robb's weight blocked Theon at the wall. He bit his tongue, forcing Robb to separate and curse.

“What the fuck, Robb?”, he shouted.

That was not like him.

Possessive, jealous, go-getter. These things Robb was.

But forceful? Never.

Theon swallowed dryly. His eyes shone. 

Robb looked at him, heartbroken as he realized what he had done, then at his hand, his feet – he backed away for a couple of steps and shook his head. His neck seemed too tired, his head too heavy for it.

Disproportionately overcharged with his marble armour to hide a common flesh, pulsating, red heart, as afraid as Theon's.

“...I just don't... I knew we were not together, that we were friends, but I think I deserved to hear it from you and not... find out.”

Theon knew Robb was right.

But he didn't have the guts to tell him.

“I'm sorry. - he lied – It was sudden.”

Theon's lips quivered.

He was such a prisoner to his own need for Robb, such an obsessed spineless whore, who kept needing his kisses and his attention – and maybe his cock or maybe his heart or maybe fucking both. He wanted to be the flames that lap Robb's mind.

He wanted to seduce that young god and be thrown and torn to pieces by his bites and hickeys.

He loved when Robb marked him, his sperm so fucking deep up his ass that Theon would shiver and enjoy for minutes the sensation of it drooling out his cave.

It was dirty and gross and he didn't mind.

Or he did but for the wrong reasons.

And Robb was too pretty.

Robb's mouth opened, he let out a sigh, “Do you love her?”

No, no, no.

_Boiling heat, summer stench … and then_ ? _I'll hear you scream again_ .

“Yes.”

Robb lifted his chin with his thumb. He had just the shade of a smile on his swollen lips.

“You're lying.”

They were so big and soft and his hands callous and his scent so strong. More than everything, Theon loved the little pain: how his fingertips bruised him, how the stubble scratched him, how his cock pressed against his own.

“Maybe. - he swallowed – But does it matter?”

Robb looked down on Theon's lips, as if he was looking at a ravine or an open gorge.

The precipice of lust, the edge of love...

Robb's eyes lingered on Theon's lips.

“What if I said, to me, we're not just friends?”

Theon let out a hopeful sigh and then a bitter chuckle.

“That's... not funny. - he looked away, forced himself to move away from Robb's ray of action, but he got pressed again against the wall – Bro, Robb, please.”

“It's not a game.”

Robb's voice was hoarse. It tasted like the bottom of a glass of liqueur and bent and used sandpaper.

“Robb, I'm not...”

“I know. - he groaned, looked away, then turned his face, but still forced his eyes below Theon's glance, avoiding to meet it – But I am.”

Theon felt shivers again.

Electricity tore him; the easy to forget nights with girls never felt as deeply carved into him as the times with Robb. It was not about what was in the pants, though, it never was … but somehow that was even worse.

“I can't be with you.”

Robb moved away. His limbs were cement, his eyes magnetized on the floor.

He opened his mouth but he did not speak.

He was about to exit.

Theon trembled, he wanted to ask, he wanted to not need, he wanted to...

Robb turned to him. “One last time. - he was not asking, he knew he didn't have to – I didn't know it was the last when we were together last time.”

 

*

 

Theon's wrists pulled and hurt. The skin under the rope lividly bruised and slightly tore. 

He stared at them almost enchanted by how good the tight grip felt. He swallowed, waiting for the next hit.

He was there, on all fours on the bed, his knees and elbows on the soft sheets, the thighs and arms trembling in anticipation. Then Robb hit him again, hard and dry, and the wettest scream escaped his mouth.

He arched his back, pleasure hitting him, as it rode up his spine with every spank.

Robb's hand slammed on his butt cheek again, harder over the already red print of his fingers. Theon let out a wet moan, bit his lips, and suffocated a harder whine.

Theon clenched his ass, flinching in delight as he felt the toy graze him inside.

Robb fondled his ass, kissed him, bit it, squished the soft flesh and slapped the hip bones stiff.

His teeth sunk into the skin, they traced dark pink lines, which then he sucked purple, slowly, meticulously, leaving the skin brimming and shivering in bruised delight.

His other hand went to caress Theon's swollen balls, dark with need, heat pooled in.

Theon's shaft twitched, he winced.

“Please... just...”

Robb's voice sounded almost hard, “It's the last time, I'll take the time I please.”, he stated, caressing Theon's erection, nicely kept hard and desperate by a cockring.

Theon clenched his fists – the nails drew blood from his palms, while the rope grazed their delicate skin more as he tensed.

Theon panted, ached.

“Does she know you like this? - Robb asked, already knowing his answer, slapping Theon's ass while jerking him off with the other hand – That you enjoy being treated like the lewdest tramp?”

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”, Theon chocked back, half in a jest, until a hot spark ran to his cock, stirring it harder. He lost his voice and wriggled and writhed between powerless moans.

His jaw dropped, his tongue fell out, head got dizzy – everything was blurry, his face tensed as he felt on the verge of... Robb's hand left his cock, still trapped in the tie.

Theon felt the shame and humiliation turn him weaker.

Robb pressed his fingers at his entrance and started playing with the small – way too small – dildo he had left inside Theon's ass. It was so thin, it was probably more frustrating him and making him greedier than anything else, but Robb knew that bit already.

He toyed with it, pulling it almost all out and then slamming it back in, twisting it, twirling it out and in, wicked as one can be with those he loves.

Theon's wet lips trembled, as his ass clenched onto the toy, greedy and needy, pulling it back and swallowing it with every thrust. 

“What an obscene hole. - Robb whispered, a grin on his lips – It's begging to be fucked.”

Theon whined; he stared at the knots at his wrists, wishing he could take the cockring off – but... then again, no... - and as he felt Robb pushing the toy back in with an extra of three fingers included, he bit the sheet and sucked them, desperate, letting the silk soak up his lewd moans.

Another spank.

Theon can feel arousal frying up his nerves.

“Should have I got you a spreading bar. - Robb chuckled, bitter and angry and it just made Theon harder – But then again you don't need that to open your fucking legs.”

Robb added a fourth finger in.

“Fuck... fuck, Robb...”, he whined, indecent.

And then he took them out, leaving Theon's ass loose and half-empty. He writhed, thrusting his hips, positioning his ass back, begging.

“Robb, please, Robb, fuck...”

“Fuck what?”, he asked, half in a growl.

Then he moved behind him, his cock rubbing against Theon's entrance, teasing it. He bent over, kissing and biting Theon's back, sinking his teeth in, while his stubble scratched the pale skin, scraping unkindly. 

Voracious, ferocious.

Theon collected the marks with blissful whimpers and needy “more”s and “please”s spilling out of him, cursed and muffled then by his wet desire and then by the blanket he bit.

Robb's hands played, one with his heavy swollen balls, caressing them, then slapping them, the other twisted the toy out and sank into his wide, gaping ass.

His cock was hard and dripping, crying for attention. Theon thrust his hips into the void: pumping, fucking the empty air, without relief.

Robb twisted the fingers inside him, curled them and grazed his prostate, pressing it.

Theon cried and chocked, he panted, mouth agape, eyes crying as he could feel his mind slipping into madness.

But it's the last time, so it doesn't matter.

He will lose his dignity that night and have it again, another day, tomorrow, and then forever, because never again he... Robb's fingertips brush on his prostate, before gently, then brutally and Theon strangles a moan, foams, bites and whines, his ass up, open and pleading for more. His cock hurts, so hard Theon can't think anymore.

“Please, please, fuck me...”, he shouted then, almost crying.

His cock jumped with every touch, frustratingly unable to climax, while his ass gaped and gasped for more.

Robb's voice sounded like liquid, dark smoke, as he snorted bitterly.

“How eager.”

He twisted his fingers, added another and pushed on Theon's prostate. His neglected dick throbbed, stirred, rock hard and feverish. His eyes rolled back, his face deformed, as Robb's fingers flex, graze, press.

Robb enjoyed the scenery quite a lot: Theon squirming, whimpering, cursing, writhing and begging. Theon belonging to him, needing him.

… for a bit, he could pretend to believe it too.

“You're mine. - he said, pulling Theon's hair up – Call me.”

“Robb... - he swallowed – _Sir_.”

“Better. - he kissed Theon's back – I'm going to give you a present then.”

Theon gulped dry, shame just made him harder, if possible. He could feel his cock so red and big, about to burst from the need to release.

Then he felt the dull, big head of another toy pressing against his entrance, still drenched in lube and needy from Robb's fingers.

“N...no. - he whined – No, please... I want yo-”

“Whores shouldn't be picky.”

Robb slid it in, slowly, relentlessly, inch after inch. It was not as thick nor as long as Robb's, but Theon swallowed it all the same.

Robb pushed it in with his lips twitching sourly.

As he saw it disappearing inside Theon's ass, deforming the entrance to gain space, then getting gobbled up avidly; he pushed it harder, gaining just a pleasured scream back. Theon groaned, forcing himself to get used to it, biting his lips, a weird, tilted smile on his face – drunk, ecstatic, wanton – while the growing stretch and burn rode his spine, fucked his mind, the sense of being filled up to the brink made his eyelids flutter and his tongue slip out like a dog's.

He was a bitch, after all.

Robb's.

And it was Robb's hand that went on his cock and jerked it, mercilessly, evilly, making him moan but never release. Theon threw his head back, whined, cried in bliss for the most needed orgasm he will ever feel, thrashing his hips on the bed, trying to hump the void.

Robb turned the toy on and licked his lips, staring at Theon's hips bucking in delight, Dionysian lack of restraint or dignity shivering all over his skin, glimmering in droplets of salty sweat and sweet moans.

The bruises Robb left behind felt good, they ached sweetly. 

Theon's cock jumped and hurt, while drool dripped from his mouth and lube down his thighs.

Robb took care of sliding the toy in and out slowly, before deeply, then quicker and more shallowly, driving Theon mad with despair and need, and hitting his prostate mercilessly with every thrust.

Theon clenched his fists, blood came out.

“Please, sir. Robb. - he sobbed, twisted between arousal and sadness - ...it's... you I want.”

Robb pulled Theon's hair back, furiously, then stared at him.

“You'd whimper all of this cajolery to any man big enough to fill you, wouldn't you?”

Theon felt his eyes fill up with tears.

Robb was not acting then or playing, no, for once, in his voce, there was truth. He was being honest and angry and hurt.

“No... - he let out, weakly – No, I promise.”

“How is it not true?”

Robb pulled him more, while stroking his aching erection with the other hand, forcing Theon to whine, scoot further, curse, lose his focus and moan between words in the most pathetic way.

“I... don't want _any_ other man.”

Robb blinked, stared at him, bent his head and caught Theon's lips in a brutal kiss. Sloppy, clumsy, strong; Robb's huge tongue filled Theon's mouth without asking, his stubble scraping Theon's cheek.

Theon moan into Robb's mouth, rolling his eyes in pleasure at feeling his mouth filled up.

As Robb parted, he stared at Theon longer, hesitated, lingered on his traits, on his ribcage and the heart he imagined behind it.

He pulled him close, “Do you want me inside?”

Theon nodded, weakly.

Robb kissed his forehead, gently, for a moment all but dominant over him, but somehow Theon didn't mind.

“I'll let you come before.”

Robb's fingers fidgeted with his cockring, making it drop on the bed.

Theon pulled Robb close with his tied hands, “The toy too. I want you in when I come.”

“Who told you you'll come only once?”, Robb asked.

 

*

 

Electric pleasure made Theon's brain short-circuit and melt his dignity into a puddle. He whined and moaned, eyes stubbornly closed.

Robb pulled his hair back, forcing him to arch his head. His voice was dark and arousal made it hard and dense, almost suffocating. “You should stare at yourself. You're such a sight for sore eyes.”

Theon obeyed, trembling.

There he was.

Painfully hard, his cock the most obscene shade of pink, hard and wet, dripping precome, while on his chest too there were stains of his last orgasms, and his wet thighs were sparkling with trails of lube and Robb's come. And then droplets still of red melted wax, crying over him, reminding him of each moan he drew from the blissful scorch. His wrists were still tied, but he could see the ruined skin under. His skin was all over covered in marks – handprints, bite-marks, shapeless hickeys, purple and red as mature plums. 

His ass was split open.

Lewd, sprained, vulgar. He could barely see Robb's cock base or his balls under his legs.

Robb's nose caressed his lobe, “Do you like what you see?”

Theon's voice trembled, shivered, drenched in need.

“The mirror... - a small, slow thrust from Robb cut his sentence and forced Theon to moan the rest out, strangling a whimper – Was it necessary?”

Robb smiled against his neck, before kissing it, “I wanted my whore to just get a view of how much of a slut he is.”

“Ro-”

“Sir.”

“Sir. - Theon clenched his teeth, suffocating the moan from a new thrust – Sir, please, don't make me look...”

“Tell me what you see.”

Theon's head felt dizzy, he could feel Robb's cock throbbing inside him, he could see it entering and exiting, moving in. He saw his ass welcome it, hold onto it, clench it in, as Robb's pace quickened. He could taste the moans he threw out, indecent and acute.

“A needy slut, sir. - he panted – He needs to be fucked like the bitch he is.”

Robb's hands went onto Theon's thighs and he raised him slightly, making sure to give Theon an even better view of his cock entering into his hole.

Theon stared, magnetized, enchanted. He always felt Robb was big, saw it, of course, but it was so evident right then, in that moment, seeing that thing fucking his ass open wide and comparing it to the rest of his body. It looked almost wrong.

But it felt too good for that.

His head was dizzy, the only thing he could feel was the heat when Robb sank into him, before shallow, then deep, so deep, tearing him apart and claiming inch after inch all of his inside.

“You're being so good. - Robb whispered – Should I give you a prize?”

His words burnt under his skin, they set him on fire.

“Oh, please...”, he begged.

“What does your greedy cunt need?”

Theon panted, arched his head and rested it against Robb's shoulders, “Make me come while you're inside me, please...”

Robb thrust brutally, without a word, just grunts, so deep and rough, Theon choked and his eyes filled with tears. Too good.

He felt broken in two, invaded and widened beyond obscenity and without any redemption. He wanted Robb to tear him apart, to mark him.

Oh, he missed that cock, when he fucked Kyra. He wished he could suck Robb or have him fuck him or literally anything...

Theon whimpered, his cock clenching around Robb and Robb grunting and groaning in pleasure for how fucking tight Theon was still. So tight, so scorching hot. It felt like heaven.

He bit Theon's neck, while slamming into him, pounding ruthlessly and hard. Rapacious, voracious.

He was a damn wolf and Theon was his meal.

Theon glanced at his reflection, at how fucking gaping, how damn needy his hole was, gagging on Robb's cock and spilling old come. His prostate was hammered and it made his cock twitch like crazy.

“I'll make you come just from the inside, like a girl.”

Theon winced, “Have you ever even fucked a girl?”, he let out, between moans.

Robb grinned then started to slow down and avoid the prostate; Theon stiffened, panicked, his lips trembled and he started bucking his hips, fucking himself on Robb's girth.

“No, no, please... please, sir, lemme come, don't stop fucking me, please.”

“You're been bad.”

“Oh, no... Please. - he whined, about to cry, dignity all gone, as he glanced again into the reflection, just to see Robb lifting him and throwing him away from his cock on the bed – Please, no, don't leave me empty.”

Robb chuckled, “You can jerk yourself off, no?”

Theon wrinkled, wormed crawling on the bed, the sheet caressing his hard shaft felt like fucking fire, the silk was a tongue, but his ass needed to be filled again. He grabbed Robb's thighs.

“Sir, sir, I beg you.”

Robb licked his bottom lip, “I'm seeing you are.”

Theon's eyes shone wet and greedy. His body was tingling, his mouth shaking, limps trembling from the denied orgasm, in the desperate need.

“Shag me... I need your... - he swallowed, he could feel his cheeks tingling and his cock jumping as he humiliated himself, the corner of his eyes then went to the mirror to stare at his own shame – I need your heavy, fat cock to come.”

Robb smirked, raised Theon's jaw and kissed him. He let him lay down under him, but then he bent his head down the edge of the bed. Theon stared at himself in the mirror, once again.

Having the head down like that already made him dizzy, but when Robb pushed through, filling him up all over again, he swore he could have fainted in bliss right then.

Noises escaped his mouth, unravelled and drenched, beyond dirty.

Robb stretched him, pulled him to the brink and every inch felt like it was too much and just what Theon needed all at the same time. Robb growls, sinking into him fully and slamming his balls against Theon's entrance, like another slap.

Theon thought again of how big Robb's cock looked, how it felt, and how he took it all in. He panted, eyes lucid, tongue out.

He felt Robb's hand caressing his abdomen.

“You swallow me so well...”

And Theon forgot everything he was supposed to believe in, “It's all I'm good for, my king.”

Rob thrust in, “If I'm a king, what does that make you?”

The thrust made Theon rut and whine, bucketing also against Robb's cock, holding onto the pleasure of the pound.

“My paramour? - another thrust – My bedwarmer? - then another., as Robb's voice got angrier, darker – For sure not a queen, given you're not mine.”

“I'm yours. I'm-”

“You're not.”

And that time, it hurt.

Robb's hand was on Theon's throat, clenching it. The other raised Theon's leg up, giving him more access. Robb's hips snapped and rut, pounding, banging Theon, making him arch and thrash. Theon chocked on a horny scream.

Robb was pushing so hard, he never felt so good. But all his moans would die in the strangled sound of his throat being constricted. His eyes drifted to the mirror again.

The anger in Robb's eyes, the need to mark, to make him his. The obscene pleasure in him.

As Robb slammed into his prostate again, hammering it, over and over, Theon came; despite the hand on his breath, he came, over and over again, whining, red faced, jaw dropped and the lewdest expression on his face.

As he softened, though, Robb didn’t' stop, but persisted, harder than before, even bigger if it were possible or maybe it was his ass that held him in, desperate for his come.

Robb threw his head back and his hips forward, thrust rough and rougher, control all lost.

He was just brutal then and Theon, half hard again, felt shivers and sparks through his whole body, as the afterglow turned into a new orgasm. Robb frowned, growled, he lost any restraint and shoved himself into him like a beast.

Droplets fell from his face, sweat making him salty and glowy.

As he left Theon's throat, he thrust faster, fucking Theon now thinking only about his own pleasure; and when he came again, he glanced at Theon, finding him ecstatic. Hard from being used.

Robb's come stained him deep.

“Your prince consort. - Theon mouthed, panting – I won't be anyone else's.”

His skin was hot, feverish. Summer stench all over them.

Robb bowed for a kiss and pushed through Theon's mouth, filling it, sinking his big tongue into him.

 

*

 

“I love you! - Theon screamed, wrinkling, his nails stuck sinking in the sheets, his legs failing and trembling – I love you...”

His voice melted into a sob, into a moan.

Robb blinked, then his hand lifted Theon's head, making Theon turn towards him, without ceasing to push and pound into him.

Theon chocked a moan, whined, his cock red and throbbing against his stomach, his ass sucking Robb's cock in, begging him not to go.

Robb thrust harder, “Me too. - his loins slammed against Theon's, his balls slapping his entrance – Me too, me too.”

Theon caught his mouth in his own, moving his hips, bucking against Robb.

Robb's teeth grazed Theon's lips, his hands dug through his flesh, his shaft plunging and rutting inside him. Theon winced and came, white staining him and the sheets.

With a moan, Theon arched and rested his head back, in the cradle of Robb's shoulder and neck, while Robb pounded in, thrust deep and rough.

His lips trembled.

“I'm yours.”

“You are. - he growled in his ear – You're mine.”

Robb's hand pressed on his stomach, brought him up, forcing him to arch all around Robb's aching, throbbing, huge cock. His walls pulled and tore, open wide.

“Don't let me go.”

“Won't.”, Robb promised, holding him so tight he'd bruise him.

 

*

 

The electric green light, spectral and intermittent, echoed in the night. It blew Theon away as he saw it reflected in speckles of jealousy drops on Robb's auburn curls.

“I'm afraid.”, Theon admitted, in a whisper.

He curled up next to Robb, between his legs, wrists weak and hands half closed, but eyes wide open.

“...constellations are not actually connected, - Theon whispered, weakly - They are stars separated by thousands of miles. We trace pale imaginary lines between them... there is nothing more terrifying I think than to realize that also our lines, the lines between us are just drawn.”

“That's a scary thought...”, Robb observed, nervous.

His hand moved on Theon's softly, gently, but that hurt Theon harder, deeper and louder than any slap his father ever gave him.

Because he was not sure what to do with that kindness.

How do you handle people caring for you?

“I don't know how not to be scared.”, Theon admitted, in a breath, moving up, closer to Robb's mouth.

Robb's hand caressed Theon's cheek, his thumb pressed on his parted, quivering lips.

Robb's half lidded eyes promised him scorching embers and soothing storms.

“I'm so fucking far away from this stuff, Robb.”, he let out, defeated, tired.

“I'll hold us together. - his hand pulled down his bottom lip, then he bowed, closer to it, and murmured, low and slow – We're not just a drawn line.”

He caught him in a kiss, forcing Theon's mouth open, his ribcage close to him, and Theon moaned and groaned in his mouth, enjoying the heat and the fury and the vigour.

Their hard crotches rubbed through the fabric, Robb's fingers sunk in Theon's hair, pressing his mouth more open, while the other hand pulled him closer by the waist. Their teeth and buckles clacked, Theon's breath tore like his shirt and Robb kept him under him. 

Robb's scent was dark and strong as the salty waters in the nights of the high tide.

Robb sunk his nails into Theon's hips, gripped him closer, bit his lip split open. Theon passed his hands over the auburn dark curls, pulled them, like reins of a horse, and got inebriated by seeing Robb's lip twitch, swollen, show the teeth, and let out a groan.

“I'll just hurt you. - Theon chuckled – That's what I do.”

Robb looked down at him, raised an eyebrow, cocky, and the corners of his mouth raised.

“Then hurt me. Hurt me well. - he pulled Theon's hand away from his hair and then kissed the wrist, licked its bones, sucked its pale skin, where all the veins collected – I need you all the same.”

“You're the real masochist here, then.” , Theon chuckled, nervous, yet aroused and flattered all together.

Robb raised an eyebrow, challenging, “We will see about that.”

Theon arched his back, moaning – their cocks rubbing threw sparks in his spine, electric as pleasure, and made him whine in delight. He rolled his eyes to the ceiling, feeling Robb's thick, hard cock against his own, barely constricted by the fabric and yet in need to be freed.

Theon bit his lips to the blood, writhing – his breath was irregular with arousal twitching through his veins.

He called Robb's name: once, twice, thrice, higher and lewder with each moaned breath.

Robb's grunts instead lowered and got rougher and harsher, as he rubbed himself, thrashing against Theon's crotch, into his groin.

Theon's smirk got tilted in need and he chuckled, “I thought we were a bit beyond dry humping.”

Robb smirked, kissing him softly. All cocky and proud.

“ _Call my name through the cream_...”

Theon brought him close for another kiss and half-sung on the brink of Robb's lips, “ _And I'll hear you scream again_ .”

“That's the plan.”

“Then earn it.”

 


End file.
